I hated the way you said I had no “values” because I see people with compassion. Because I believe love has solved more problems than condemning ever has. Because I believe your version of justice would leave the world with blank eye sockets and toothless gums, choking down their own teeth.
I hated the way you thought that being an upstanding citizen meant looking down on everyone who had it less together than you did. That if you learned a lesson two years ago you were better than the person learning it today. That I must be basking in secret sin to be capable of forgiving anyone I saw committing it. That I was tempting fate by not treating those who have failed with scorn.
I hated how you actually used the term “that guy” constantly. As in, “I’m not that guy” whenever discussing behavior you felt was beneath you, because as we all know, there are nice guys, and there are douchebags, and you sir, because you don’t smoke or chew or go with girls that do, are a nice guy, and are deserving of a virginal white princess. If a girl deigns to stir emotions within you (or show an inch more of skin than you have secretly deemed appropriate) she is a slut and a bitch. It’s better to say, “I’m not that guy” any time I offer solid solutions to proactively work around my illness or urge you to take time off with just the boys, rather than take me up on it and relax for a second. Better to resist and insist to the point of being insulted, then throw it back in my face six months later. That’ll teach me.
Since I’m a liar, and faking all of these hospital visits and needles in my spine, I’m probably just a few more hits short of spontaneous healing, so why keep pulling punches, sweetie? Just let ’em fly.
I sometimes want to beat myself up for not seeing through you, but I am not a mind reader, a soothsayer, or a ghostbuster; and you are quite the genius masquerader, self convincer, and pious martyr. Glorious be thy name.
A tip of the hat, sir. You are quite the specimen.
I woke up with a sore shoulder yesterday, because I sleep horizontally on the bed now. That’s how fucking gone you are.